


On the Field

by Rayray262



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU-Modern, Football Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3109196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayray262/pseuds/Rayray262
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke gets tapped to be the next coach of the JV Ark High School football team, she didn't expect how much it would change her life. Now she has to manage her friends, her classes, and Bellamy Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Field

             Clarke’s phone was buzzing incessantly during the middle of class. She grimaced at the noise the vibrations made on her wood desk, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She just ignored it and kept walking around the room, helping her new students out with their sketches, suggesting new shading techniques and smiling at their impressive work.

             She had been at Ark High School for only about 2 weeks now, but she had quickly found her groove here. She had instantly made friends, and it helped that her best friend’s dad was the principal (which was totally not the reason she got the job, of course, she got it on her own merit and no one could tell her otherwise). She enjoyed the company of Jasper and Monty, the two resident goofball chemistry teachers who acted about the same age as their students, which coincidentally was the reason they were absolutely beloved by their students. Harper, who shared the classroom with her during her off blocks, was the sweetest and most musically talented person Clarke had ever met. Plus Raven, who taught shop classes, whom Clarke had known from….well, it’s a complicated story.

             But on this particular occasion, it was Wells, her best friend, who was texting her trying to confirm that she was going to watch the game with him tonight. Leave it to Wells to pester the crap about her, when he damn well knew the answer. She didn’t miss watching her favorite team for the world. She was a born and raised Michigan fan, and would die wearing blue and yellow (even though even she could admit their uniforms were hideous, but not out loud). She was a Wolverine, through and through.  
She was so caught up in her conversation with Wells that she didn’t even hear him stomp into her classroom. He wasn’t capable of subtlety, no, Bellamy Blake practically oozed narcissism, making himself known wherever he went. He was the history and Latin teacher, and even coached the Varsity football team (to multiple championships, as he told everyone all the time). Practically every female teacher had a massive crush on him, except for Clarke, who found him obnoxious as hell. So when he sneaks up behind her and whispers in her ear, it takes everything for Clarke not to scream out of surprise. No, he won’t get the pleasure of catching her off guard.

             “Whatcha doin, princess?”

             “I am currently engaged in a conversation, what are YOU doing?”

              He shrugged. “Watching you texting heart emojis to the love of your life, and the only reason you got this job?”

             “First off, I didn’t get this job because Principal Jaha is Wells’ father. Secondly, and how many times do I have to tell you this, I am NOT in love with Wells!”

             “Of course you’re not, it’s completely obvious you are in desperate love with me, princess.”

             She barked out a laugh. “Not if you were the last man on earth.”

             “No, of course not, because you are a Michigan fan. And I am a lowly Ohio State fan. Unless you are into some star crossed love shit, which, I wouldn’t put below you princess.”

             “Don’t you have a class to teach?”

             “Oh yes, but it wouldn’t be a good day unless I got to see you all twisted up.” He pinched her cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

              His voice dripped with sarcasm, and it took everything in Clarke not to huff about her not being angry, but she knew by doing that she would be only proving him right, so she let it drop, and simply watched him as he left the room, still feeling his wolf like eyes and smirk everywhere.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

              Clarke wasn’t big into superstitions, except when it came to football. She always wore the same jersey, one of her dad’s favorite ones, slightly faded from use but still perfectly oversized. She made the same food, drank the same beer (Miller Lite, which she found shitty as hell, but what the heck, it was tradition). And she always took a picture of her and her dad when he first took her to a game and kissed it for good luck.

              “So my dad said the JV football coach quit today. Something about being pissed off by the Varsity coach.”

              Clarke snorted. “Off course he quit, people can only deal with so much abuse from the glorious Bellamy Blake. So are they going to hire someone new? The season’s already started…”

              “Well dad made a good suggestion, and he asked me to run it by you, so…”

              Clarke knew what he was going to say before it came out.

              “No.”

              “Look Clarke it’s really too late to find someone else, since the season’s already started, and your dad was one of the best football coaches in the country, plus there is really no one else…”

              “I said no. And I mean it.”

              “If it’s about your dad…”

              “Fuck, Wells, of course it’s about my dad!”

              She huffed off to her room, and screamed into a pillow for a second or two, to compose herself. There was still another quarter left of the game and she couldn’t leave it, so she went back. Wells was smart enough to know not to bring it up again, and they left it at that.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

              Clarke grew up on the sidelines of a football field. Her mom was a celebrated surgeon, and therefore was incredibly busy, so for the most part, she was always with her dad. He would pick her up from school, and drive over to the field. She became a part of it all. She remembered sitting on his shoulders as he coached the team, helping him give out high fives at practice. All the players adored her, and she cheered them on all the time (it helped a little that her dad would get less angry with the players when the messed up when she was around). She grew up watching games.

              Her dad was one of the best football coaches in the country, having coached for multiple smaller teams until graduating to coaching Michigan, his alma mater, the team he played on for years as wide receiver. It was the biggest promotion in the world for him, and everything was so exciting on a football level this high. Clarke loved every minute of it, the pomp and circumstance of the games, the cheers, the thousands of fans lining the stadium painted in blue and yellow. She was always there, every game. He would even discuss strategy with her. He always told her she had a knack for coaching.

             Everything came crashing down about 2 years later, when Clarke was 13. He got in a car accident while her mother was driving. Her mom lived, but her dad was thrown through the front windshield and killed upon impact. Suddenly Clarke couldn’t stand football. She barely made it through the funeral, with all the players of the team in attendance. She didn’t watch another Michigan game for 3 years after that. Every time she tried, it just hurt too much to comprehend. She would watch as the camera would pan over to the coach, expecting to see him there, dressed in his blue polo, with the headset on, maybe even with a little girl with blond hair on his shoulders. That girl was dead, and she wanted nothing to do with it anymore.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

             Clarke was barely finished cleaning up the paints in the classroom when Bellamy barged in again.

             “Is this becoming a pattern, you stomping your way into my classroom?”

             “A little birdie told me you might be coaching the JV football team.”

             Clarke groaned. “No, I’m not coaching the JV football team.”

            “Good, because I need those players in tip top shape so that when they come onto my team, they are the best players in this state, and frankly, I don’t think you can do that princess. I mean, just because you watch the games, especially _Michigan’s_ , doesn’t mean you know how to coach.”

             Clarke’s blood was boiling. She didn’t want to coach this damn team. But she knew a challenge when she saw one, and god only knows Clarke doesn’t give up on a challenge. Especially not one against Bellamy Blake.

             “Do you know who I am? I am the daughter of Jake Griffin.”

             Bellamy palled for a second. Even though he wasn’t a Michigan fan, he certainly knew of Jake Griffin, the legendary Michigan coach and former player who passed away during the prime of his career.

             “I spent every spare moment of my childhood on the sidelines of a football field with my dad. I even coached a couple of practice games. I lived and breathed football strategy, helped train the players, watched all the games, all starting from the tender age of _three_. I’ve got football in my blood, Bellamy Blake, and I am sure as hell not going to let you belittle me. I’ll coach that team better than you ever could. I’ll make them state champs. You just watch me.”

              Bellamy just stared at her, dumbfounded for a second. When he regained his composure, he let out a signature smirk.

             “I look forward to working with you, Coach Griffin. But don’t think I’ll take it easy on you. Hell I can barely take you seriously with all that paint on your damn face.”

              He rubbed his thumb across her cheek to wipe it off, and Clarke instinctively pulled back, unused to such interactions with Bellamy, and utterly dumbfounded. He just smirked at her.

             “See you on the field.”

              And that was the second time Bellamy sauntered out of her classroom that week.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

              To say Clarke was nervous was an understatement. After her declaration of becoming Coach, word had spread rapidly around Ark High School. She had even gotten a short feature in the athletics section of the local newspaper, mainly about her being the first female football coach in the Valley Football League. Her friends, however, were incredibly supportive. Raven declared a rousing speech that can be summed up by “Smash the Patriarchy, girl!” Harper shared much the same sentiments. Jasper and Monty just shrugged at the news, neither of them played football nor cared that much about it, but they did suggest their own cocktails of energy drinks to try on the players to make them better (“It’s better than Gatorade!” “Although not totally legal, I think, but who cares! You’ll have the fastest players in the league!”)

               Bellamy, though he ceased barging into her classroom, never relinquished an opportunity to call her “Coach Griffin,” officially replacing her title of “Princess.” She wasn’t sure she liked the new title better, because he was mocking her, not treating her with any more respect than before.

               So on the first day of her Coach-ship, Clarke wanted nothing more than to run and hide. She had popped a couple anti-anxiety pills before hand, because she was sure she would have a panic attack if she had to walk to the football field (she avoided them ever since her dad died), and she definitely didn’t need to have her new players see her freak out.

               She walked briskly towards the field. Her players were milling around anxiously, waiting for the arrival of their new coach. When she appeared, the players gave her a once over. A couple smirked at her attire, she was wearing a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a tank top, because it was damn hot outside, but normally this type of clothing was not appropriate for a teacher. Frankly, she didn’t look much older than her players, and she certainly did not match any of them in height. But she would whip them into shape.

              “And what are you all staring at? Haven’t seen a girl before?”

               Most of the boys balked at that, a couple even blushed.

              “I’m your new coach. I know I don’t look like much, nor do most of you believe a girl can even coach football, but trust me when I say I have been coaching for a long time. I want this team to be the absolute best team by the time I am done with all of you. And I am no pushover. You will work hard and long until you have formed yourselves into the perfect players.”

               It was silent for a second, and Clarke expected that, until one of the players, Jackson Stone, known as one of the rowdier boys, decided to throw his two cents in.

              “So you expect us to let us Coach you? Look, I don’t think you can even throw a football yourself!” Some of the boys laughed. “Look, little lady, but I think you are in the wrong field for this.”

               Clarke had really tried to stay calm, she really did, but it was the use of the title “little lady,” that condescending tone that set her off. She shoved her finger into Jackson’s chest, glaring up at him so hard she thought she would bore a hole into his head.

               “Stone, I don’t give a crap what you think. If you are not going to respect me, I will kick you off this team so quickly you won’t know what hit you. You’re trying to get on the varsity team next year, right? Maybe get a football scholarship somewhere? Well if you keep up this bullshit none of that will happen, I can guarantee that. I am your COACH. And you will listen to me, give me the damn respect I deserve, and treat me like your COACH. Or else.”

                Jackson shut up then, shockingly surprised and her grit and tenacity. Clarke knew she wasn’t going to win them over in a day.

               “I expect you to be the best players you can be. I wont be easy on you. But I also expect you to be the best off the field. If you get in trouble, you will be suspended. If it is serious or it happens multiple times, I will kick you off the damn team. You get no free passes just because you are football players. And I expect each of you to maintain a GPA of at least 3.0, or you will be suspended until you get your grades back up. Do I make myself clear?”

               The boys nodded quietly in agreement, but most didn’t look happy. If they expected a pushover like Flitch was, they weren’t going to get one. She was going to hold them to the standards her dad held his players too.

               “Now let’s get to practice.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            Clarke drilled them into the ground that day. She wasn’t going to make it easy on them in the least. They did drills, they did laps, they did weights. She was going to put them in tip top shape. She ended her practice with a strategy session, because she believed the whole team should know this stuff backwards and forwards, and be able to make their own good decisions on the field as well. Most of the players were quiet during this, and many grumbled about her working them into the ground, but all of them watched her with a quiet awe about how well she knew football strategy. This was her forte, of course.

            What she hadn’t expected, was for Bellamy and his varsity team to interrupt her practice. The varsity players grinned around her like she was a piece of meat; many of them had adopted the signature smirk their coach wore. Clarke frowned at Bellamy, the clear distaste she had for him stretching across her face.

            “Well, Coach Griffin, have you had your fun? I’m sure your practice was a wonderfully successful one.” Ironically, he was slightly sincere in this, but she could still feel his sarcasm.

            One of Bellamy’s players piped up. “Yeah, did you teach them how to have a tea party and which dresses to wear to the prom?” The varsity boys sniggered, clearly enjoying making fun of her, but Clarke knew how to deal with douche bags like this boy; she had been dealing with them all her life.

            “Actually, they had to run 40 laps. Which, I’m sure you could all do, right?” She let her gaze fall up the player who spoke, whose face turned white for a second.

            Bellamy looked angry at the player who spoke out. Clearly he had no tolerance for this kind of action, even though he himself frequently engaged in it with her. “Actually, I’m sure Murphy could run 40 laps. I’m sure Murphy could run 80 laps. So do it Murphy.”

            Murphy’s face turned cold, and he sauntered off to run the laps. Clarke smirked at Bellamy, who was not only angry for Murphy’s outburst, but that Clarke had humiliated him in front of his players.

            “See, Bellamy? Even the mighty need to be taken down a few pegs sometimes.” She paused to let this take effect. “Alright team, you’re dismissed. Don’t forget to ice those muscles and stretch for tomorrow’s practice. We’re going to do it all again.”

            As she walked away she felt Bellamy’s eyes boring into the back of her head.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            Bellamy had not taken kindly to Clarke’s embarrassing of him the other day. Miller, the athletic director, had come up to her and said that her practice time was going to be shortened, so that the Varsity team had more time to practice on the field. No doubt this was retaliation for Clarke’s actions. Clarke was incensed, at first, but she realized she had other methods of practice she wanted to employ on her team, and she didn’t need the field for this, so she didn’t fight it. In fact, she simply pretended nothing had happened, because she knew the only thing Bellamy wanted was to see her reaction. She wouldn’t give him one.

            Thankfully, the JV team won their first game with her as coach. Bellamy had sat on the sidelines, watching her the whole game as she managed her players. Jackson, the new captain (he proved himself worthy by working the hardest after that first practice, and was good with his players. He was clearly a leader) lead the players well, and almost every strategy she had  so painstakingly developed over the last weeks worked well, so they won. It was mostly the fact that the team they were playing was awful, but Clarke wasn’t going to let that stop her from celebrating the victory. The team was incredibly proud, and they had worked so hard over the past two weeks, that she gave them a break, and gave herself one too.

 

            _“Time out! Ark!”_

_“Luke! Get over here, and sit! You need to rest your ankle!”_

_“Ugh, fine Coach.”_

_“Don’t give me that attitude. I’ll wrap it myself in a second.”_

_The boys sniggered. One even made mention of the new nickname she had developed, calling her “mom.” Clarke frowned, and gestured for the boys to huddle up._

_“Alright, we have 4:16 left in this quarter and we are giving up too much ground to these guys. We need to play a tighter defense, we are too sloppy. I want you guys to focus on number 42, he’s been open nearly every time, and eventually they are going to take advantage of that. And I need at least 2 guys on number 12 at ALL times. He’s caught every ball thrown to him because he’s been open, and then he gets through the gap you guys are leaving. Kenny and Alex, you need to be more attentive. I know the cheerleaders are wearing barely anything but if I catch you staring at them one more time I’ll make you both wear one of their skirts next game. Got it? Anything else, guys?”_

_All the boys echoed with a “Got it, Coach!” and Clarke panicked for a second, remembering how the players would say that in much the same way for her dad. She found herself smiling. Her dad would be damn proud._

            As celebration for the win, the gang went out the their favorite bar, the Grounder. Raven even brought along her new fling, Wick, an engineer. Anya and Lexa, the sisters who ran the place, loved the gang so much that they even gave them a discount, mostly because they drank enough to make up for it. And it was on this particular evening that Bellamy had to ruin everything.

            Clarke wandered over to the bar to grab the next round of drinks, calling them out to the bartender Lincoln.  At the end of the bar she spotted Bellamy, who was talking with some pretty girl, who looked about to be in college (Bellamy would flirt with some college girl, even if he didn’t look like he was flirting), with dark brown hair, olive skin, and perfect eyebrows. Frankly, she kind of looked like Bellamy. Leave it to Bellamy be so in love with himself he would chat up a girl who looked like him. Clarke snorted, and, as if he instantly knew who it was, Bellamy snapped around, lips quirked up as he saw Clarke.

            “Good game, I guess, Coach Griffin. Even if the opposing team played like a bunch of three year olds. How much did you win by? Oh, only 3 if I recall. ”

            Clarke frowned. She had already had a lot to drink, and it wasn’t making her rational part of her brain function properly.

            “Oh, fuck you Blake.”

            “I would love you too, princess.” He flashed a shit eating grin that Clarke wanted to smack off his handsome face.

            “You wouldn’t know what to do with all this gorgeousness if you tried.” She couldn’t believe she was flirting back with him, but here she was, and she wasn’t going to lose this flirt off. She was going to make him drool over her, and then walk off with a flick of her ponytail.

            “Mhmm, I think I know exactly what I would do.” His eyes were dark and intensely fixed upon her, in a way that made Clarke want to squirm a bit.

            “Oh yeah? Well then tell me.” She hadn’t meant to say that, but hell, she was drunk, and it came spilling out. She heard a gasp behind her, and turned around to see her friends staring at her and Bellamy intently, their eyes the size of melons and their mouths agape. She looked back at Bellamy, her embarrassment evident. But Bellamy didn’t miss a beat, his eyes gloating over his win, and her apparent desire. He moved closer, till his lips were almost on her ear, and whispered to her.

            “Mmmm, maybe later, when you are covered in paint and nothing else.”

            With that he walked away, and Clarke was left standing there, out of breath and incredibly confused.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            She avoided Bellamy ever since, well, the Incident. Even the gang had enough sense to not talk to her about it. Raven and her discussed it once, but it had ended in Clarke declaring vehemently that she hated Bellamy, always would and always had, and that she was just stupid drunk that night.

            She dreaded seeing Bellamy on the field at practice, since he would frequently seek her out to boast about his team’s accomplishments and his players. But, even when they did interact, he seemed more subdued, and well, nicer. Clarke didn’t know what to make of this. Even Miller, Bellamy’s best friend, asked her what was up with him. Clarke balked at this, because, why the hell would she know, she hated the guy! Miller just shrugged and said that the two of them seemed to be around each other all the time, so he figured she would know. Clarke was shocked at this.

            But being around Bellamy didn’t seem to be as, well, frustrating as usual. Their interactions were even somewhat pleasant, although still awkward for Clarke after the night at the bar. He gave her tips and tricks on how to practice with the team better, and gloated less, and she gave him strategy ideas. Strangely, she realized, they would make a damn good team together, but she soon pushed this thought out of her head. This was Bellamy they were talking about. He would never be anything but an ass.

            It wasn’t until he gave her an Ark Football cap for being undefeated that she thought something was up with him. This wasn’t like him, he usually wasn’t this nice. She tried talking to Raven about it, but Raven would only grin and say that Clarke knew what it was about, she just hadn’t accepted it yet. This left Clarke even more confused.

            She decided to confront him about it, and found herself marching over to him after practice was over and all the players had left (they had recently begun coaching both teams at the same time, mostly because they couldn’t agree on practice times, and Clarke was pissed that they had shortened hers).

            “What do you want?” His trademark teasing had turned vicious, and Clarke was taken off guard for a second by his tone of voice.

            “I, umm…”

            “Look princess, I don’t have time for you to yell at me right now. Especially about us using your extra practice gear or taking up too much of the field. I don’t want to hear your bitching right now.” Even the way he said princess was different, this time, it was full of venom.

            Clarke was enraged. She hasn’t expected him to be such an asshole at this moment, not after weeks of him actually being nice. Clarke’s mind flashed to the thought that maybe, underneath, he was simply just a jerk.

            “Well fine then. You can go fuck yourself, Bellamy Blake.”

            This time, it was her storming off.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            Clarke and Bellamy’s fight had left her angrier than ever. Unfortunately even her players could tell, especially because in the next week the practices kept getting more difficult. Frankly, it was a good thing, because the playoffs were in 2 weeks and she needed them in tip top shape to compete to go to the championship.

            She took solace in the fact that they were undefeated, and were playing so well under her guidance that she was up for coach of the year (first female ever in the competition, which didn’t fuel her competitive side at all, of course not). She just wanted to crush Bellamy in the competition, as he was up for the same award for the 4th year in a row.

            People complemented her coaching skills all the time. One parent even said she coached like her father, which made her cry for 2 nights at the thought. The team’s average GPA was now a 3.3, the highest in Ark Football history (and coincidentally higher than the Varsity team’s, not that it mattered), and not a single player of hers had gotten in trouble this year. They seemed to really respect and adore her, and she loved her whole team so much.

            And when she needed to let off steam, her art classes did the perfect trick of relaxing her.

            She avoided Bellamy so well, that she only saw him once in a blue moon now, and they didn’t speak.

            So yeah, life was going swimmingly.

            One day after practice, after everyone had left, she found herself in the men’s locker room, digging through the footballs to find the one that Luke left. She wasn’t technically allowed in there, even though she was the coach (frankly she didn’t want to go in there, but here she was, and it smelled just as gross as she thought it would), but Luke told her is was his lucky ball from his grandfather and he had to have it back before anyone stole it, so yeah, she went into the men’s locker room to find it.

            Before she could leave, though, she hear someone walking into the room from the showers, and she panicked. She froze in a corner, hoping no one would see her, because there was no way she could get out now without someone seeing her, and she didn’t want to look like some sort of creep. So she just stayed still, and watched as Bellamy came out of the showers.

He was wearing only a towel, which was tied low around his waist, just enough to reveal the “v” of muscles that lead to the…. Um…. Yeah. His hair was wet and tousled, and she watched as his muscles moved when he moved around. She knew she should stop, but for some reason she couldn’t do it, and she kept staring. She moved her gave downward, towards his powerful calves and…

            “Like what you see, Princess?” Her head snapped up towards him, and she was sure her face turned a bright tomato red.

            “Um…. I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be in here, it’s just, well, Luke left his football, and I had to get it, you know, I mean…”

            She stopped stammering for a second to realize she wasn’t making anything better, and turned even more red, and just looked at the ground, hoping she could make herself invisible for a second.

            Bellamy just laughed, a deep laugh that she had never heard him give before. It made her feel a little giddy, and she realized she had to get out of this situation before she did anything stupid.

            “So, um, I’m leaving now, because you know, you hate me and all, so bye!”

            She turned around quickly to leave, but stopped quickly when she hear Bellamy utter softly:

            “I don’t hate you, Clarke.”

            “You don’t? Because you were kind of a supreme dick face last week, and you have been avoiding me all week, so… yeah, you hate me.”

            “God, Clarke, I’m sorry. I don’t hate you. I’ve had a really shit week. Like really shit. My sister Octavia dropped out of college, and it’s the anniversary of my mother’s death, and fuck, I don’t know. And I took it out on you. Because, frankly, I have no idea what I feel about you and it’s making me so confused I can’t think straight.”

            Clarke just stared at him, unable to fathom what he just said.

            “I know how you feel.” She muttered under her breath.

            “You do?” He smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his eyes in a way that Clarke found a little breath taking.

            “Yeah.”

            They stared at each other for a second, neither knowing what to do next.

            “But that doesn’t change the fact that sometimes you can be a supreme ass!”

            He laughed, and Clarke couldn’t help look at the way his abs moved when he laughed.

            “Also, this conversation would be a lot easier if you weren’t standing here in a freaking towel like we are in some kind of crazy porno” she gasped out, staring at him and hoping he couldn’t see how her eyes dilated a bit with want.

            He could, though, and he moved closer too her, slowly, in a way that made Clarke get rigid for a second, because she didn’t know what to do. He got so close that he was inches away from her face.

            “What would happen next in this porno situation?” His trademark smirk was back, but this time, instead of wanting to smack it off, she just wanted to plant one on him instead.

Clarke panicked. This was not happening, this could not happen, this was freaking Bellamy Blake, the jerk coach of the Varsity team, standing in front of her, covered in steam, in naught but a towel, flirting with her. Clarke opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t seem to form words.

            The locker room door opened, and Clarke’s head snapped up to Bellamy in a panic, because she really shouldn’t be in here, especially not with a half naked Bellamy Blake. Registering her panic, Bellamy grabbed her by the arm and shoved her into one of the shower stalls, closing the curtain quickly and rushing off to get rid of the player. Clarke sat there, eyes wide at the turn of events, and holding her breath.

            “Hey, Coach Blake. I think I left my phone in here. Did you see it?”

            “Um, no, Dean, I haven’t seen it. Why don’t you check the bench? You always seem to leave stuff there.”

            “Ok Coach!”

            Clarke waited until the door reopened, and then paused a bit more just in case. She slowly moved back into the main locker area, looking around her like a panther was about to jump her. Bellamy was nowhere to be seen.

            “You might want to leave before he comes back.”

            Clarke whipped around, her mouth dropping. Bellamy had changed into a pair of boxer briefs (Calvin Klein ones, not that she noticed or anything) and nothing else.

            “Um, yeah. I’ll be going. See you later!” She spilled this out of her mouth quickly, and then rushed off. There was no way to get the image of Bellamy in just his underwear out of her head. She was so distracted she nearly hit a car on her way home.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Clarke found herself enjoying every minute of coaching. The camaraderie was great, and it gave her a chance to get out all the anger and frustration she felt. Her players worked hard, harder then they had every done before, and it damn well showed. They were one of the top teams, and were likely to play in the championship, provided they won this next game.

            Clarke and the team were nervous about the next game, against the appropriately titled Mountain Men from Mountain View High School. They were a tough team, filled with some of the best players in the league. They were also the only other undefeated team, and they had crushed every other team so badly that the combined score of the games would be something like 37 to 450. They were almost unstoppable.

            Mountain View had been Ark’s rival in almost everything, and so this game was important on many levels. Clarke watched as the Mountain Men’s head coach, Cage Wallace, son of the infamous Dante Wallace, head coach of Auburn, gave their team a rousing speech. Clarke could only hear bits and pieces of it, but it came down to “Crush them.” She saw Cage glare at her, with a menacing smile on his face. She didn’t like this guy. He looked like he tortured people for fun. He made his way over to her, never leaving eye contact. Clarke shifted uncomfortably.

            “Well well well. I didn’t think coaching football was suited to the female temperament. I suppose that’s why you have such a rabble of delinquents here on this team, huh? Why don’t you go back to leading cheers, with all the other airheaded blondes, where you belong?”

            Clarke gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to give this guy the satisfaction of her getting angry.

            “It doesn’t seem like coaching is that hard, I mean, even _you_ could do it, Cage. But no matter, I hope it’s a good game. Enjoy my team crushing you into the dirt.”

            Cage barked out a laugh. He eyed her over like a piece of meat, even going so far as to lick his lips once or twice. Clarke had never been so disgusted in her entire life. She wanted nothing more than to leave, but Cage was inching nearer to her.

            Suddenly a hand flashed out, pushing Cage away, and a very angry Bellamy Blake stood in front of her.

            “I suggest you go back to your side, _Cage.”_ The way Bellamy spit out his name, it was as if it was so repulsive to him. Clarke looked around her and noticed her whole team was backing her up, all of them glaring at Cage, ready to start a fight if he hurt their coach.

            “Well then, hope it’s a good game then, Coach Griffin.” Cage sauntered away, leaving Bellamy to rush over to Clarke.

            “What did he say? Was he threatening you?” He looked so concerned, and like a protective bear, that Clarke was dumbfounded as his behavior towards her.

            “I’m fine.” She snapped at him, wanting him to leave her to coach. She didn’t need Bellamy being her bodyguard, she could fight her own battles. Bellamy just smiled.

            “Ah, I always knew there was a bit of warrior in you, Princess.”

            He walked back over to the stands, leaning on the bar casually. Clarke, however, could see he was tensed up, and that he was glaring a bit at Cage.

            “Alright, team, this is the battle of our careers. I’m not one for rousing speeches, that’s Bellamy’s domain, but hell, I’m going to try anyways. You have been the best team any coach could have. I’m so proud of each and every one of you. So win this for yourselves, not me. You all deserve it. “

             She didn’t realize it, but she was beaming so bright that Bellamy turned his gaze from Cage to her, and smiled.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            They won the game, but it was rough. Luke hurt his ankle again, and Jackson got sacked so hard on a rush she thought he was unconscious. It was almost a bloodbath, but she told her players to fight clean, and follow the strategy.

            She had chosen some of her dad’s best plays for this game, ones that the team had practiced over months and saved for just this game. Every play was executed perfectly, and every time, Clarke beamed at the thought that her dad would be proud. At one point, she looked back up into the stands towards Bellamy, and when they locked eyes, she smiled widely, her heart skipping a quick beat.

            Cage was not happy, in fact, he looked like he was ready to murder someone. He even smacked one of his players so hard upside the head that the kid had to be taken out for a quarter. Cage paced around on the sidelines like a tiger ready to pounce.

            Even though the game was a clincher, Clarke felt oddly calm, calling play after play and motivating her team to success. She thought it was her dad, smiling from heaven and giving her support, and hell, maybe some of it was Bellamy too, who stared at her for the entire game with the proudest smile on his face. She knew right then and there that she had won his challenge and proved him wrong, but instead of gloating, she just smiled.

            When the game was over, she and the gang went back to the Grounder for drinks. Monty and Jasper were gushing over the game, even replicating some of the cheers the cheerleaders do at full voice in the middle of the bar. Raven was laughing at their antics, but even Clarke could tell she was actually more focused on Wick, with whom she was secretly (actually not so secretly, everyone knew) holding hands under the table. Lincoln gave her a free drink in congratulations, and even Lexa and Anya came over to congratulate her. Clarke felt invincible.

            Clarke walked over to the bathroom, because after 4 beers and so much excitement it was all she could do not to pee her pants. She heard her name called, and turned around to see the same beautiful brunette that Bellamy was talking to a couple of weeks ago. Her eyebrows turned up in surprise.

            “Congratulations! Bellamy told me all about the game!”

            “Um, thanks? I mean, yeah, it was pretty great.”

            “I’m Octavia, by the way! My brother just gushes about you. I think he’s in massive love with you. I’ve never seen him this way. You’re like a goddess to him.”

            Clarke’s mind flashed, she remembered Bellamy saying his sister’s name was Octavia. She turned red with embarrassment for a second, she had totally thought this girl was just some airhead that Bellamy was flirting with. Frankly that she was jealous of, not that she would never admit to it.

            “Wow…. Wow. I… he gushes about me?”

            Octavia gasped, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

            “Oh my gosh, you’re in love with him too!”

            “No!”

            “Oh you so are, Clarke! I have to tell him!”

            “No! Don’t tell him! I mean, I don’t love him! I…”

            “Don’t worry Clarke!” Octavia laughed. “I won’t tell him. But you two are perfect for each other.” She smiled and walked away, towards the bar.

            Clarke’s mind raced. This was the second time she was confused after a night of drinking in the bar, each time about Bellamy Blake.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            The day of the Varsity/JV game had come, and the whole school was buzzing about the rivalry. It was a tradition for the two Ark teams to play each other, and the students really got into it. Clarke was looking forward to beating the Varsity team, and watching Bellamy lose to her, the clearly superior coach.

            What she wasn’t looking forward to was the pregame tradition. Each year, the two teams would make bets on who would win. They would write down what the other team would have to do if they lost, usually embarrassing things, and put them in a helmet. When they lost, the team would have to read them out loud while most of the school looked on. Together, her team declared that they would get longer practice next year, and would get full reign of the locker room. Plus, as an added bonus, Jackson and Luke decided to make the whole Varsity team, coach included, wear the cheer squads skirts for a whole day (inspired by Clarke’s previous threat; she couldn’t be more proud), if they won. Clarke wrote these things down, and put them in the Varsity helmet, while grinning from ear to ear, fully expecting the Varsity team to make good on their promises when her team won.

            What Clarke hadn’t expected was Bellamy’s mastery over coaching. She had only watched a few of the varsity games, and knew he was a good coach, because his players did their jobs flawlessly and his plays were impeccable. What she hadn’t expected was that by sharing strategy for the last few weeks (she was just trying to help, she swears it wasn’t just so she had a chance to talk to him), he had formed plans to beat her.

            The game was close, so close, and Clarke was so nervous the whole time, she began to pace on the sidelines (a practice she abhorred thanks to her father; he believed a coach should be calm and collected). There was 45 seconds left on the clock, in the fourth quarter, and JV was on the 3rd down at the 30 yard line. Both teams were tied, and Clarke knew they needed to get one more touchdown, or hell, at least a field goal, to win the game. She told Jackson on the headset to play it safe and try to rush, so there would be no interception and if they failed, they could go for a field goal and win the game.

            Jackson called out the play, backed up, and scanned the defense quickly to find the opening. Murphy was coming at him, and Jackson could not move quickly enough to evade the sack, so, he did something stupid. Clarke gasped in horror as Jackson threw the ball away quickly, hoping it would just be incomplete. It wasn’t. At the last second, there was an interception. Clarke’s face fell, there was no way this could get any worse.

            But it did. The player who caught the ball, Ike, if she remembered correctly, was a masterful player, and he ran down the field, dodging every player who came at him. Clarke was panicking. This couldn’t be happening, the play should not have gone this way. It never failed. Clarke’s head snapped up in realization. She told this play to Bellamy last week. He _knew_ what to do. She looked at him, and he smirked at her back. Clarke didn’t even watch as Ike scored a touchdown. She just stared at Bellamy, shock apparent on her face. _They won._

            Her team dragged back to the sidelines, in absolute defeat. All of them looked nervously at each other, wondering what there tasks for losing would be. She didn’t put it past the Varsity team, nor Bellamy, to make up some horrible things for them to do. Jasper and Monty told her that last year, Bellamy and his team made the JV team run naked through the hallways and wash all of the Varsity gear for a year. Clarke grimaced. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

            Jackson walked over and grabbed their helmet. He picked out the first piece of paper. Their first task was to wear the same gear all year, and never wash it. It was the grossest thing Clarke had ever heard, because she knew how bad the jerseys could smell after _one_ game, let alone _all of them._ But the boys didn’t seem to mind it as much.

            Jackson gingerly took out the second piece of paper, and this time he groaned. He read out that the team had to do a cheer performance, skirts and all, at the last Varsity game. Since the last game was the playoffs, it was televised every year, and Clarke knew it would be embarrassing. Clarke felt bad for her players.

            But it was the third one that Clarke knew would be the worst. She looked at Jackson as he read the paper. His eyes widened, and he stammered for a second.

            “I can’t read this. Holy shit.”

            Clarke’s breath caught. It was bad, she knew it. Bellamy walked up, with, she can only describe it as swagger, and grabbed the piece of paper.

            “I’ll read it then.”

            She stared at him, and he paused for effect, then looked her deep into the eyes. His voice boomed out loudly, another shit eating grin on his face.

            “Coach Griffin...”

            Clarke could feel her face drain of color. This was bad. So bad.

            “in front of the whole school…”

            She was not going to get naked, hell no, if that what it was. She wasn’t going to do it.

            “is required to kiss Coach Bellamy for 30 seconds.”

            Clarke’s mouth was agape. While she certainly had not been expecting that, she wasn’t sure what to do. She just stood there, as everyone stared at her, smiling from ear to ear.

            “You ready princess?” Bellamy looked like the cat that ate the canary.

            Clarke walked over as everyone in the stands cheered. She was nervous, to say the least. She had spent the last few months avoiding any feelings, sexual or otherwise, that she had for this man, and now she was required to publicly kiss him. She wasn’t going to show it, though. She was going to look like the victor here.

            She was standing inches away from him, his face angled down towards her (she was significantly shorter than him, but it didn’t matter in a fight), his eyes hungry but slightly softened. She could see the freckles on his nose she was so close.

            “Bellamy if you think you are going to make me do this I swear…”

            Her voice hitched as he planted his lips on hers. For a second, her eyes popped open, and she could hear the crowd cheering loudly, and then… nothing. Nothing but Bellamy. She closed her eyes, and opened her mouth in a small moan that she hoped no one could hear. He heard it, and he groaned into her mouth, his tongue interlocking with hers as they, well, furiously made out. She could faintly hear the crowd counting down, but she didn’t care. She grabbed his neck and pulled him down further as he cupped the back of her head, his large hands tangling in her hair. It was the best kiss she would ever have, she thought. It was all him, rough and needy, his lips sucking on her bottom lip, the smell of him, the feel of him, everything went blank except for him.

            She sucked in a breath as he pulled away, him breathing just as heavily as her. The crowd was roaring heavily, chanting their names. Clarke looked up at him, and he smiled widely.

            “Don’t think that next time its going to be that short, Coach Griffin.”

            “I’m counting on it, Coach Blake.” She smiled, and he laughed, picking her up and lifting her up, then spinning her around. She laughed too, a genuine laugh of pure delight.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

            Epilogue:

            Clarke had won coach of the year. Bellamy didn’t even get upset at losing, he just whooped loudly and cheered for her.

            She went home, looking at the mantel. Six trophies sat upon it, 3 of them hers and the rest his. She couldn’t have been prouder, of the both of them. They made great coaches, but together, a great team.

            Bellamy walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly and kissing the crook of her neck. She was supremely happy. Her team had won the championship 6 years in a row, she was now married to Bellamy Blake, with one daughter and a son on the way. Nothing could be more perfect.

            Clarke loved to go to the Varsity games and sit on the bench, watching as Rory sat upon her dad’s shoulders as he coached. It was so beautiful to her, so full of memories, that her heart hurt, but in a good way. Bellamy turned towards her, smiling wide with evident pride, and Clarke could not think of a more perfect image.

            Clarke and Bellamy now coached both teams together, but Clarke still ran the roost. Even when Clarke was 8 months pregnant, tiny with a small swollen belly, she could still get Bellamy to do what she wanted, sometimes with just a small frown and her arms crossed. He knew she was the better coach, of course she was, she was the daughter of Jake Griffin. Her strategies were flawless and her play development was one of the best. When she would huff this out, Bellamy would just laugh, he still found it oddly cute when she got angry, his tiny pregnant wife.

            Jake Griffin Jr. was born during the playoff between Ark and Mountain View. Clarke got the all too familiar labor pains, and even from 10 feet away, she just had to whisper Bellamy’s name, and he knew, rushing over quickly to hold her up. Everything stopped, all the players just stopped, the crowd went silent. Even the refs stopped the game, they respected Clarke as a coach too much. Bellamy rushed to her side as she clutched her stomach.

            “He’s got perfect timing, guess he wants to see this game in person,” she huffed out sarcastically.

            Bellamy just laughed.

            “Come on, princess, let’s get you to the hospital. Keller! You’re running the show now. I expect nothing less than a trophy and a son tonight!”

            Clarke smiled.  Just perfect.

            (They won, and 30 minutes later, Clarke gazed at her baby boy, her daughter, her husband, and the large trophy in the room with more pride than anyone else.)


End file.
